We Could Have Had It All
by l3xiquinnsegsy
Summary: He had never thought about an afterlife, and even if there was one, with his actions, it wasn't likely to be a good place for him. It didn't really matter, as long as he was allowed to rest for once in his life. And maybe Glimmer would be there.


**A/N: So I wrote this for my lovely friend Natalie's birthday about a month ago and then completely forgot that I did. So here this is. It's my first HG fic, so bear with me lovelies. When I finally saw the movie, I was like "HOLY GOD BATMAN I SHIP CATO AND GLIMMER SO HARD" and I started writing this in my head the second after Glimmer died. I liked that they fleshed out that characters more in the movie, especially the tributes.**

**So hobey ho…here we go! **

There was something about a sword that never ceased to attract him. When he entered the room, it was the first thing that his eyes sought out. With that one particular skill, he would win. He would return home and bring honor to his family. He would finally be worthy in their eyes.

And then the eyes that had been so drawn by the sword saw the second brightest thing in the Training Center. Fitting, a name like Glimmer, given to someone who honestly did have a shiny aura about them. She was bubbly, too much for someone who was bred to kill. Her long blond hair cascaded down her back in a tight braid, obviously ready for the vigorous day ahead. But all he could see was her face, and not the one she had plastered on now, but the one from years ago, the first time he had seen her.

_-_

_It was an unspoken rule between Career Trainers that their Tributes would meet at least once before the Reaping. In the past, these meetings occurred no less than a year before the teens planned to enter themselves in The Hunger Games. But as time went on, it became clearer that if they knew who they might be fighting against, it would make for a better game. The viewers and Capitol would never have to know of the interaction between the children of the first two districts, but when the killings became more dramatic, and the viewers went up, no one would think twice about what had sparked it. _

_He was eight when he first was introduced to her. The train had brought her and her Trainer in the night before. They were to stay with his Trainer, Master Donle, for the next three days. The girl would participate in his training for those days and be introduced to his family. Not in an overly-formal "Hello I might kill your son one day" introduction, but just enough for his parents to know who he would be up against, and who he would rely on as an ally. Theoretically, if they disapproved of the pairing, a new girl could be found from the Tributes of District 1 to match with him, but from the Trainer's discussion, they would be a perfect match. _

_While he was entirely focused on his studies of the craft, she had mastered the ability to remain carefree about her Training. If she was to fight for the death in the near future, why not live out to her fullest potential in the time that she had? _

_He remembered when she had first said that to him. _

_"Why can't you relax?"_

_He had turned his head towards her so fast that had he not have been in the best possible bodily condition, his neck would have kinked. No one was ever so forward with him. Not many eight year olds, even the other possible Tributes, were able to tolerate his no-nonsense attitude and the hostility that rolled off of him like waves. _

_"Relaxing is letting your guard down. If I was to do that in the Arena, I would already be dead. A conversation like this would already have me dead." With that, he turned back to his weights. Ninety-nine percent of the time, an abrupt and frank response like that would have turned anyone away._

_But she was the one. _

_"Relaxing is letting loose. If you're so wound up, you'll go crazy in twenty-four hours in there."_

_He sighed. "I don't expect you to understand. Relaxing will just get me killed, and then my life will be nowhere. Actually, you should understand. You're in the same position as me."_

_She smiled at him then, and put a comforting arm on his shoulder in a way that an eight year old should never have to do. _

_"But you might die anyways. I know I probably won't make it. So why not live out to my fullest potential in the time that I have left?"_

_With that she stood up and left him to his thoughts. They were the only non-Game related thoughts that he had experienced in years. _

_He made his way across the room, to where Master Donle stood, clipboard in hand, chatting with his parents. As he neared the group, his father turned to him. _

_"Boy, do you like who your Master Donle had chosen for you?"_

_He nodded his head. "Yes, father, she's perfect for this." _

_-_

In the years to come, it progressed from she was perfect for an alliance, to she was a perfect fighter, to she was perfect. It needed no label after that. Emotions were not foreign to him, that wasn't the problem. The problem came from the fact that she was still the enemy, no matter how close they had become.

-

_"So Master Ralph said that we're supposed to use these to talk about Training _only _and that no one can know that we have them because only select people in the Capitol do."_

_He laughed. "So naturally, the first thing that you do is call me with it?" _

_Her laugh was twice as loud as his was, and he reveled in his ability to make her produce that sound. It was simple things like that about her that made him enjoy having her around. When one was so lacking in the friends department, at first by his own choice, and then because of his lack of ability to make them, he kept the ones he had close. _

_"Of course I had to call you. I don't know anyone else who has one of these. Besides, I haven't seen you in months, and at the last Training that Clove girl couldn't be pried off of you for more than ten seconds."_

_"Yea, she's a bit clingy. She's new to the Center, though, so I get it. No one to really talk to at this stage, because everyone's so focused."_

_She nodded her head. "How's everyone doing? I know things are so tense here."_

_"I think it's more nerves than anything else. No one really expects it to come so fast. We've had dropouts in the last few weeks, so a few of the younger Tributes are being called up for inspection."_

_"Poor kids. Makes me so glad that I didn't have a parent riding me about doing this or something like those wimps probably had. You need to either be in the program or out, you know?"_

_He nodded, but grew quiet at her last comment. She immediately realized what was wrong. _

_"I'm sorry, that was insensitive. I just meant that I'm glad that no talent is being wasted because of _undedicated _kids who have parents who are trying to live through them because they were too poor or too out of shape to get into a Center. You are nothing like that."_

_"Thanks," was his only response. She continued. She hated to see him shut down when his family was referenced. _

_"How's that going, by the way?"_

_He sighed. "It's been better. My father wanted me to volunteer for this year's Games, to replace the 'cowards who disgraced our District'. Thankfully they had already found replacements."_

_She shook her head. "Why does he want you there so quickly? You're not ready, almost, but not quite. Besides, I want you around for a bit longer. You and me, we'll show honor for our Districts when it's time."_

_He smiled at her. _

_"I think I'm gonna go to bed."_

_"Okay, goodnight Mr. Grumpy Pants."_

_He chuckled. "Goodnight Glimmer." _

_-_

A smile was something that rarely graced his face in the coming years. He had a smile for meeting possible sponsors, a smile for his family, a sadistic pleased smile when he had a particularly good kill, in practice or not, but only when he talked to her was a true smile on his face.

And that smile was dangerous. Getting attached to the person you were most likely destined to kill was one of the best ways to lose focus and appear weak. So he was not weak. He trained harder, an extra hour for every few minutes that they were able to talk every few months. No one could deny that he was the fittest, the deadliest, of the upcoming year's bunch.

When he stood up and volunteered as the Tribute of District 2, the only thing on his mind was that he would win. He would have to kill his, was she a friend or simply a tool to his plan, friend Clove and twenty-two others to get there, but in the end, he would be alive.

And then he saw her. How was it possible not to look at her and just remember? Though their conversations had become far too few and not often enough over the last two years, whenever he had needed a bright spot to his often bleak days, he replayed their conversations in his head. When his father had told him that he would be disowned, even in death, if he did not win, he thought about the time that they had rock climbed together, in a practice arena constructed outside of his District. When he had been forced to take a "Ways to Die With Honor" class at his Training Center, he remembered the time that they had stayed up all night debating which Capitol fashions were the worst, just to take his mind off of a fight with his father.

And on the train ride to the Capitol, when for the first time it really began to skin in that his parents had bred him for slaughter in hopes of increasing their own social status, he had to hold back the first tears that had ever threatened him as he remembered her advice. She had told him to live to his fullest potential, and what had he done?

What glory was there in killing twenty-three other teens, most who were so unfortunate that they had never had a full meal before today? There was nothing good about it. Sure, he had no problem taking the lives of the innocent. How many times had they brought prisoners into the Center for him to practice on, he didn't know, but he knew that he had ended many more lives than the others he was up against.

It wasn't the killing, he decided, that bothered him, but the fact that it was this scenario. He didn't want it anymore. His fullest potential could have been a great general or a power politician in 2, but instead he might not even live into the next month.

So when he saw Glimmer, in that Training Prep Room, he turned back to the knives and the swords that the things that had made him feel at home over the last eleven years.

If she was able to spur these feelings of hatred in him and doubt in him after years of training, he would have no problem killing her.

Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong. Killing her would never have been easy. She stood in the middle of the blood bath, caressing a beautiful quiver with an amazing bow that would surely be deadly if she knew how to use it. No one dared to approach her. As calm and harmless as her face made her out to be, bodies were strewn around her feet, immediately proving her worth as a Career.

Checking the rest of the Cornucopia for any remaining stragglers, he made his way over to her. Too distracted by her bow, she failed to notice his presence.

"Fair way to get killed, that."

She turned to him. "What, with the bow? How's this going to kill me?"

He scoffed. "No, letting someone sneak up on you like that. I could have been District 12, or the black one from 11."

She laughed at him as the two began to canvass the Cornucopia for supplies. "Don't worry yourself about me, I'm a big girl."

"You're also my ally."

Glimmer stopped him at that. "You have Clove, and Marvel, and who knows. Maybe District 12 bread boy will want to join us."

He shook his head. "No, I mean you're my _ally_. I know we haven't talked as much in the last few years, but you're still the person I trained to counterpart. So don't die being stupid and unobservant like you were earlier."

"Aw, it's almost like you care about if I live or not."

"Glimme-"

"No. We both know that you're the one who gets out of this. I'm the good-looking surprise fighter who keeps you alive when Clove gets picked off."

They had been walking through the woods for hours, tracking useless competition that had been stupid enough to light fires and leave noticeable tracks. Clove had been excited to finally reach the arena and Marvel had kept quiet as always. With their group was a boy from 4 and a girl from 3. He hadn't bothered to learn their names, knowing that it would most likely be his job to eliminate them when the pack thinned. Also with the Careers was lover-boy from 12, Peeta. It had been a surprise when he had removed himself from the woods and offered up information on his counterpart in order for acceptance into their group.

Not wanting to pass up a chance at Katniss, they had all agreed, and were now moving through the woods at Peeta's general guidance. While everyone moved quickly, hoping to reach Katniss before darkness, he slipped towards the back, where Glimmer was bringing up the rear and keeping watch.

"You know I don't think that."

"Think what?"

He sighed. "I don't think that you're just here to die for me. That's never what I wanted. Maybe at first, but I was young and stupid and I didn't understand what this really was."

"And what is this, then? Please, shed some light on what you've learned since you were eight."

"Our parents and our Trainers raised us to kill us. My whole life had been spent so that my parents can become famous if I win or pitied and taken care of in the highly possible event that I lose."

"You're just realizing this? God, Cay, our lives have been like this for years. Bad time to feel regrets."

"No, I don't regret any of this. I love that I'm intimidating, that I can do things with weapons that others can't dream of. I command respect and every damn person gives it to me. I don't regret how I was raised, it just finally sank in what I was raised _for_."

They walked in silence for a moment, before he continued. "I remember, the day I first met you, you told me that I needed to relax and live a little."

She nodded and waited for him to continue.

"Well, you know I didn't. Not unless I was talking to you."

"Cay, please don't make this some soppy goodbye when you know that we'll be around longer than this. Don't make me attached after you spent the better part of the last two years ignoring me. I missed talking to you about our Centers, and Training, and just everything that no one else had the gall to talk about because it was against our freaking code to have dissent against our 'purpose'. Just, don't make this harder than it has to be."

"I'm sorry, you know, for isolating you."

"It's not your fault. You had more pressure to win than I ever did. I was a distraction, and I knew that there would be a time that you'd have to start cutting ties."

He grabbed her hand, after that statement, and pulled her to the side of the path that had been created by the group in front of them. "You were never a distraction, okay? You were the only person I could be real to. That's why it had to stop. If I had been thinking about this back in the District, who knows what would have happened and what I would have wanted to do to stop this. How could I have faced my family?"

At Glimmer's silence and unwillingness to respond, he realized something that he probably should have long ago.

"How long ago did you realize that they never really loved us?"

Her face crumpled into a confused expression. "What are you talking about?"

"How long ago did you realize that no loving parent would ever send their kid to their deaths?"

"Ugh, Cay, don't think like that. They love you. Think of how proud of you they'll be when you go home in a few weeks. Just focus on getting through this."

"But this isn't the problem, Glimmer. I've been exposed to killing and violence ever since I can remember. I'm so desensitized to it at this point; it won't even matter to me when Clove dies. Sure, I'll be sad, but I know that she's going to go, by my hand or someone else's. I'm not worried about this, I'm worried about going home and still not being good enough. I had never really connected the fact that they must not care about me that much. I always knew that they wanted a fortune so badly that they would put my life on the line for it, but I never associated it with them not caring."

"Then don't. They have to care about you. Who could not? You're such an amazing boy, who has had to become a man far too soon, but still embraced it. You'll make them proud."

"But their appro-"

"Glimmer? Where'd you and 2 go?" Marvel yelled.

Glimmer sighed and pushed her companion back on the path. "We're coming Marv, we just thought we saw some berries."

In the aftermath of a massive fire, Katniss had suffered compromising burns and was stuck in a tree. The Careers had set up their camp bellow the tree to wait her out. As they prepared to rest for the night, Glimmer sat down next to him.

"I'm up for watch first, can I sit with you?"

He nodded. "Yea, that's fine."

The two sat in silence as the rest of their group dozed off. No one's sleep was ever really that refreshing in the Games, and this would most likely be their best opportunity, with their greatest rival caught injured above them.

Glimmer yawned, and in an act of impulsivity that he didn't know he possessed, he pulled her into his side as he lay down.

"Cay, I have to keep watch."

He shook his head. "She's up a tree and all of us are going to die anyways. Just, live a little. A wise girl told me that once, you know?"

Glimmer giggled at him, and he could honestly say that it was once of the best things that he had ever heard. She curled into him, and fatigue had her asleep in minutes. He brushed a few strands of hair off of her face and placed a quick kiss to her forehead.

"Sleep well."

There was a loud thud and suddenly a deafening buzzing. He sprang up, awake at once, and was immediately assaulted by some sort of bees. Scrambling for his pack, he sprinted away from the hive, only to in a split second remember the reason that his arm was asleep.

Glimmer had been using it as a pillow.

He turned quickly, to see a person-shaped mass covered in the bees writhing on the ground. Not giving them any hope, he turned to find Glimmer, when it screamed.

It was like nothing he had ever heard. Blood-curdling didn't even begin to describe it as it rang through the forest, and as he turned to flee, it screamed again. This time, however, what it said was recognizable.

"CATO!"

He found it fitting, in a sick way, that the last thing she said was his name. She had been his only true support system, and even in the small time that they had, he knew that she was the closest that he had ever allowed someone to be to him. She had died only moments after being in his arms, which again, was the closest physically he had ever been to another person. In the end, she had been the only person who had truly cared about him.

And Katniss would pay for taking that away.

In the end, it was them. Love-struck, District 12, and him. With body armor and his sword by his side, there was never a doubt for a moment in his mind that he would win. But when they released the Mutts, and he saw that they had _her _eyes, it was as if he received a slap to the face. What was he trying to win for, again? His life, which had never meant anything of true value to anyone but her. His parents, who only saw him as a tool to gain fame by. There was nothing left of the one person he had cared about but a pair of engineered eyes.

Rolling off of the Cornucopia and into the maws of the Mutts was the most painful experience that Cato had ever experienced, yet he felt nothing of it at all. He knew that he was releasing dreadfully painful sounding moans, but that seemed to be the only reaction that his body would give. He hoped that this part was televised and that his parents had a front row seat.

"_This is what you wanted, right? A spectacle, something to draw money or pity? Well congratulations, Dad, you've got it." _

He had never thought about an afterlife, and even if there was one, with his actions, it wasn't likely to be a good place for him. It didn't really matter, as long as he was allowed to rest for once in his life.

And maybe Glimmer would be there.

Simply the thought of her joining him somewhere for all of eternity made him relax, and with a last breath, he shoved his head closer to the mouth of the closest Mutt.

Within five minutes, the canon sounded.

And while all of Panem watched with bated breath as Love-struck and District 12 contemplated their suicides, Cato awoke.

It was a simple room, white walls on three sides, with a small hallway leading from it. He sat for a few minutes, assessing the situation he had been dropped in. It was obvious that he was dead. He waited for that to set in, for the tears to fall, for him to begin to miss his family and his life in general.

It spoke volumes when they didn't come.

He would spill no tears for the life that had over worked him for over sixteen years.

He would, however, allow a few tears to escape, when the footsteps that he heard from down the hallway gave way to the smiling face of the one person he knew he would have missed.

"So much for me living out my life, eh?"

She smiled and reached for his hand.

"Thank god we have more time for us then."

As the two walked down the hallway leading from the room, Cato paused. "What do you mean, we have more time?"

Glimmer shrugged. "I honestly have no idea. But I'd like to believe that someone knows what we dealt with and is looking out for us, you know?"

"Not really, I don't."

"We didn't have childhoods, Cato. We were raised to kill. Maybe, this is what we get for that. A second chance to do something else, to live freely."

Though Cato had never been one for religion and higher powers, he nodded. As long as she was there, he would believe in whatever entities that he needed to. The real smile that was reserved for her graced his face as he rejoined their hands once again, and walked through the hallway.

If this was what he got for the life he had lived, then every moment had suddenly become worth it.


End file.
